


Let My Bones Melt Away

by perfect_plan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff, Hospital, M/M, Meet-Cute, mentions of other marvel characters - Freeform, random encounter, vague mentions of injuries/surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_plan/pseuds/perfect_plan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is in the hospital recovering from a motorcycle accident and becomes friends with the patient across the hall...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let My Bones Melt Away

The steady beeping from the EKG next to Steve's hospital bed was strangely hypnotic and paired with the morphine that he was still slowly coming down from in a misty fuzz, kind of pleasant. He blinked into the small private hospital room.

That's my heartbeat, Steve thought hazily.

He was considering drifting back off to sleep when he could hear a familiar voice through the open door some way down the corridor and frantic footsteps approaching.

"I knew this would happen, I knew it. I hate those bloody things." Peggy. She sounded angry and upset.

"Peg, they said he was going to be fine. He's just a little...bashed up." Howard was doing his best to calm her down without actually saying calm down. Peggy hated being told to calm down.

"Bashed up. I'll bash him up."

Steve held his breath, waiting for her to come through the open door but realised that probably wasn't such a great idea when the EKG started to slow. He tried to take a deep breath and winced when his upper body flared in pain.

Peggy appeared in the doorway to his room and he managed a weak smile.

"Hey Peggy," he said, his voice slightly slurred and a little raw.

Peggy froze and Howard walked straight into her. She barely moved when he did. "Oh good God, Steve." He stopped smiling when he heard the shock and disbelief in her voice. "You...you _idiot_!" She walked slowly to his side, her eyes taking in the damage as he lay on the hospital bed. Howard frowned and folded his arms.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Steve said and hoped that he sounded comforting and not just high on painkillers. He had a broken tibia (right leg), a shattered ankle (left leg), a fractured elbow (left arm), five broken ribs (whichever ones they were, it all hurt) and a broken cheekbone (left side). He didn't even want to think about the bruising. He could see the ugly purple and black marks on his arms and legs and he was sure his face didn't look too pretty at the moment either despite the helmet he'd been wearing.

Peggy's mouth was a hard angry line. "I told you that _stupid_ motorbike was a death trap. But you insisted on getting one. You had to be...had to be cool, didn't you?"

"I wasn't racing for pink slips or anything. There was a raccoon on the road. I swerved and...." he made a wobbly gesture with his right arm (the only thing that hadn't sustained any damage), "...ta-dah."

Peggy looked at him, eyes cold. "A raccoon?" She started to laugh. "A raccoon?" Howard watched her with concern as she doubled over and laughed harder. "You almost got yourself _killed_ because you didn't want to hit a poxy raccoon?" The laughter dissolved into wet heaving sobs and Peggy covered her face. Howard came around the bed and pulled her into a hug. He gave Steve a nod.

"Hi pal," he said softly.

"Peggy, please don't cry," Steve said and reached out his hand to rub her arm. "I'm okay. I'm so sorry I scared you." He hated himself for doing this to her even though it had been an accident.

Peggy turned to him and sniffed, her cheeks wet with tears. "I thought you were _dead_. When they called me I _knew_ it was the bike."

Steve's heart twisted in his chest. "I'm not getting back on it, ever. If it means never having to see you like this again I won't get on another motorcycle as long as I live."

Peggy leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "You mean it?"

Steve tried to smile again. It didn't hurt as much if he only smiled with the right side of his mouth. "If it's not completely totalled I'll have to sell it to help pay for this. I'm not sure my insurance covers acts of raccoon."

Howard put his arm around Peggy, planted a kiss on her cheek and gave Steve a little grin. "Taken care of."

Steve frowned when he realised what Howard was saying. "No, hey now, that's not -"

Peggy shushed him. "See it as your birthday and Christmas presents for the next...oh...thirty years?" She pulled a tissue out of her purse and blew her nose.

"Guys, I can't let you do that," Steve's voice broke.

"Steve, it's done. Get better. Buy me a new fondue set or something," Howard said and poked his good arm.

"You're the only person outside of the sixties that still likes fondue," Steve muttered, "but it's a deal. I just...this is too much, really..." His voice was starting to drift.

Peggy stroked Steve's head and smoothed his hair down. "Howard and I would never have met if it hadn't been for you, so shut it. _We_ owe you. You need rest; I'll come by whenever I can." Her eyes welled up again and she pressed another kiss just above his eyebrow. "I'm so glad that you're alright."

Steve made a humming noise. "Sure that raccoon gave me the finger before I swerved..."

Peggy smiled and they didn't leave until he was asleep.

***

The pain got worse before it got better and Steve tried his best to ride it out most of the time, not wanting to take painkillers if he didn't have to. It was stupid of him, he knew that, but part of him wanted to punish himself. He had insisted on buying a motorcycle and now he was a wreck and Howard and Peggy were paying fuck knows how much in hospital bills for him. The more he thought about this whole mess the worse he felt. And he had plenty of time to think.

The doctors said he was improving day by day though; his leg and ankle were setting nicely (he hated the metal pins sticking out of his foot, holding his bones together and did his best not to look down) but he might have a slight limp in his right leg when it was fully healed. They hoped that physical therapy would help but they wanted him to know it is was a possibility. He thought it was a small price to pay for what _could_ have happened.

***

His sixth night in the hospital was when it suddenly hit Steve for real. Thanks to all the painkillers he'd been on, he hadn't dreamed much and when he had, they had been the weirdest dreams he'd ever had - full of killer robots and flaming skulls and at one point, the Jolly Green Giant, but angry and scary. This dream was the worst though; his head had been clearer for the last day or two and his brain had finally decided to go nuts and stab him in the back. He was on his bike, he saw the raccoon and swerved, more out of instinct than anything and then there was a horrendous crunch of metal and white-hot pain and darkness.

He woke in terror, a scream dying in the air and someone was talking to him, gently but insistently. "Hey buddy, it's okay - you were dreaming. It was just a dream." He felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and firm. "You're in the hospital, big guy. Wherever you were in your head, you're not there anymore."

Steve's mouth was dry and his heart was racing; he could hear the EKG going into overdrive. "Holy shit..." Steve gasped. "I almost...I almost died...I could have died..."

"No, you're okay. It was just a nightmare," the voice was at his left, close by. He turned towards it and a guy with huge gray-blue eyes full of concern was leaning over him. He was in a hospital gown and Steve could just about see the bandage wrapped around his head and several patches of gauze on his face; his left arm was in a sling. "Whoa, you're shaking really bad. I'm going to get a nurse." But as soon as he said it, Steve could hear quick footsteps coming towards his room. Steve grabbed the guy's arm and looked up at him, horrified.

"No...no...not the dream...my bike..." he frowned. "I almost..." Steve couldn't stop shaking. The guy just looked back at him helplessly.

A nurse came in then and hurried over. "Mr Rogers?" She checked the EKG and took a penlight out of her pocket and checked his pupils. He winced at the bright light but he was starting to calm down.

"He was having a nightmare. I could hear him across the hall. He was thrashing around pretty bad; I didn't think that would do his, y'know, his broken bones any good so I woke him up." The guy stepped back from Steve's bed.

"That was good of you Mr Barnes, but you should really go back to your room now. You shouldn't be up." The nurse rested a hand gently on Steve's shoulder. "I'm going to get something to help you sleep, okay?"

Steve nodded and threw his right arm over his face, the dream still fresh in his mind, trying to shake the sound of crunching metal from his ears. A sob escaped his mouth before he could choke it back down. The nurse walked around the bed and took the guy gently by the arm.

"Come on, he needs rest."

"Will he be okay?" The guy looked back before he left the room with the nurse and Steve didn't think to say thank you before it was too late and he was gone.

***

He was pretty down for the next few days; he didn't have the dream again but couldn't stop thinking about it, what _could_ have happened to him. He tried to shake it away but sank into a funk. Everyone told him that was to be expected - he'd been in a serious accident - but that didn't make him feel any better. He hadn't seen the guy who had woken him up from his nightmare since either and was starting to wonder if maybe he'd dreamt him up too. He usually wasn't one for wallowing in self-pity but he thought he could make an exception this one time.

It was weird how his life was suddenly on hold. His friend Clint from the gym was keeping an eye on Steve's apartment, threatening to kill his plants and look for his porn. Sam was looking after his dog, Crossbones, and cursing Steve for naming him that because every time he called out to the Sheepdog in the park he got laughs or weird looks. Steve didn't have any family; his friends were pretty much his family and he felt lucky that the few he had cared about him enough to go out of their way to make things easier for him while he was in here.

Peggy was picking up the slack from his job and he was worrying all the time about it. She ran a small interior design firm and Steve worked as a carpenter for her, making customised furniture mainly, although he did a bit of anything that required manual labour and he often joked that he was nothing but glorified hired muscle.

"You're a carpenter and a bloody good one too," Peggy had said one day as he was carrying deliveries into the studio and complaining that he was just a lackey, "I've never seen anyone work wood quite the way you do."

Howard, who had dropped by to pick up some paperwork, had sprayed the mouthful of coffee he just gulped all over some fabric samples and Peggy had sighed and told him and Steve to both grow up as they laughed hysterically, although she had looked pleased with herself.

"Steve, stop worrying. Howard and I have it all under control. I've explained the situation to all of our clients and they were more concerned about you than they were about whether their carpets matched their drapes." She arranged some sunflowers on Steve's nightstand.

Steve let out a small laugh then and Peggy smiled.

But now he was on his own again, angry at everything (himself especially) and finding each little thing irritating as hell. He hadn't shaved since the accident and the beard that was growing steadily day by day was prickly and annoying (a nurse had offered to help him shave but he added it to Steve's Self-Imposed Punishment List and let it grow.) His right leg under the cast was itching like a son-of-a-bitch and nothing could reach it. He groaned as Keeping Up with the Kardashians came on the TV and howled in frustration as he knocked the remote onto the floor. He was considering whether it was worth buzzing for the nurse or if he should just watch the show in a sulk when a voice made him look up.

"Everything okay?" The guy from the other night was in his doorway, in his hospital gown. He was still covered in bandages and his left arm was now wrapped up tightly with a heavy dressing. Steve could see the intense blue of his eyes from across the room.

Steve blinked. Okay, so he hadn't been a morphine-induced dream. "Oh, hi. I just...I dropped the remote and I can't stand this crap," he waved at the TV, "and I'm just having...well...a really bad week." He chuckled dryly.

The guy wandered into the room and glanced down at Steve's legs, wincing at his ankle and the metal pins sticking out of it. "Yeah, I can see that." He walked to the other side of the bed and picked the TV remote up off of the floor, passing it to Steve.

"I didn't get a chance to say thank you for the other night. I'm sorry if I woke you; everything kind of...came to a head that night." He turned off the TV and held out his right hand; his left was still in a cast and hurt if he moved it too much. "I'm Steve."

The guy smiled and shook Steve's hand. "Bucky. And it was no problem. I was awake anyway and you sounded like you needed help." He indicated to the chair in the corner of the room. "Can I sit and talk? I'm bored out of my mind. Unless you need to sleep or something?"

"Sure thing," Steve said, pleased for something new besides bad TV, mediocre hospital food and his own negative thoughts.

Bucky dragged the chair over next to Steve's bed and sat down. His eyes flicked over Steve briefly. "So what happened to you?"

"Came off my bike. Kind of smashed myself up."

"Sorry dude," Bucky said.

Steve shrugged. "It could have been worse. I try to remind myself how lucky I am every time I have to piss in a bottle while someone watches."

Bucky laughed then and it was warm and sincere and made Steve feel a little better. "Yeah, I guess at least I don't have to do that."

"What about you? That's a lot of bandages."

Bucky smiled again and Steve could feel his earlier irritation draining away; there was something easy and genuine about Bucky's manner. "It's a kind of funny story. You have to know that I'm a complete moron before I start to tell it though - it's an essential plot point."

Steve laughed softly, ignoring the pain in his ribs. "Okay, I'll keep it in mind."

"Well, I was walking home from work one night and I saw someone getting mugged. It looked pretty bad so I ran to help and the mugger took off. I guess any normal person would have let him go but he was kicking the guy he'd attacked while he was down and defenceless which is a pretty shitty thing to do and it got me kind of angry. So I chased after him."

Steve was enthralled. "What happened?"

Bucky scratched his head. "Well, I thought I could take him down - I've seen enough action movies to think I knew what I was doing - and we went through a plate glass window into a hardware store. I got pretty badly cut up, hence all the awesome bandages and stitches. The asshole was fine though - he was even nice enough to smash my head against the floor and give me a concussion before he ran off again, also leaving me with a whole lot of property damage to pay for."

"Jesus! That's insane," Steve said, eyes wide.

"Yeah, I kind of tore up my arm on the glass as I went through," Bucky held up his left hand. "Severed some ligaments. I've already had a couple of surgeries. It'll never be quite the same but they say I just missed cutting through some important junk so I guess that's something, right? And there we go. I'm a moron."

"I'd say you're more of a _well-meaning_ moron, though. A moron with good intentions." Steve was impressed despite himself. He had a bit of a thing for hero types. Especially dark-haired, light-eyed hero types.

Bucky laughed again. "You're the only person who hasn't just said "yeah, you're an idiot" when I tell that story. Thank you."

Steve grinned. "You're welcome."

Bucky ended up staying with Steve in his room for a few more hours and they watched terrible daytime TV and talked. It was nice; Steve even managed to forget about some of the pain until he shifted and his ankle reminded him why he was here in the first place. He found himself liking Bucky a lot. It had been a long time since he'd met anyone that he hit it off with so effortlessly; Peggy was always chiding him for being so closed off and not giving people a chance, a bad habit developed from his teenage years and being mercilessly bullied throughout high school. His growth spurt had hit him too late and by then the damage had been done. It took a lot for Steve's defences to come down with people at the best of times and Bucky had seemed to break through them without much resistance.

"I think you need to get some sleep," Bucky stood up when Steve's head started to droop during an episode of Family Ties. He put the chair he'd been sitting on back in the corner and gave Steve a little smile. "I'm probably going to be in this place for a few more days at least if you want to hang out again?"

Steve gave him a tired grin. "Sure. I've got nowhere else to be."

Bucky turned and flashed him another smile before he left and Steve fell into a dreamless sleep.

***

For the next couple of days, Bucky could pretty much be found in Steve's room until even the nurses were fed up of trying to shoo him out. They watched more terrible TV and when they got bored of that, Bucky managed to find a deck of cards and they played poker. Steve was terrible at it - his tell was so clear that Bucky won every time, seeing straight through him.

"How am I making it so obvious? I'm trying to keep my face as neutral as I can," he said after losing the sixth game in a row.

Bucky gathered up the cards and shuffled the deck. "You do this thing with your eyebrows. You get all the good hands but you can't bluff for shit." He grinned as Steve made an indignant noise.

"So what do you do?" Steve asked as he picked up his cards. "For a job, I mean."

Bucky had his game face on as he looked at his own hand. "I work in a bar. It's okay. I don't love it. A lot of evening shifts. What about you?"

Steve wondered if he should stick with the two pairs he had or risk trying for a full house. "I'm a carpenter."

Bucky looked up, his poker face breaking into an amused grin. "Really?"

"Is that so funny?"

Bucky shook his head. "No, I just would never have guessed. You seem a little straight-laced for something that cool."

"Gee, thanks." Steve pretended to be annoyed.

Bucky fumbled. "No, I didn't mean it like that...I meant...you seem more like..." he made a pathetic gesture with his hands as he tried to think of something.

Steve kept a straight face. "No, please continue." He waited until Bucky was babbling nervously and then moved his eyebrows slightly.

"Can't bluff for shit, huh?"

"You were really going to let me keep digging myself into that hole?" Bucky asked with relief when he realised that Steve wasn't annoyed and Steve finally broke into a fit of giggles, wincing as his cheek ached.

"But it's so much fun to watch you squirm," he said and Bucky flicked a card at him.

They played a couple more games and Steve couldn't help himself from glancing up at Bucky every time he was concentrating on his cards. His face still had a couple of patches of gauze on it from the cuts that were healing but the larger bandage that had been on his head from the night he'd woken Steve up was gone now. Steve could see the cut that intersected his eyebrow; it was looking better without the stitches but it was going to leave a scar. Bucky didn't seen too bothered about that. Steve tried not to stare too much, weakly trying to convince himself that he was looking because he was concerned about Bucky's injuries and not because he found him insanely attractive.

***

The following day after lunch, Bucky swiped some cheesy romance novels from somewhere and sat reading them to Steve dramatically in a low breathy voice until he had to beg Bucky to stop because he was laughing so hard, he thought he might have damaged another rib.

"Okay, but I'm totally highlighting all of the good parts for those long cold nights," Bucky said with a shifty grin.

It wasn't until they were watching Top Gun that evening on some crappy movie channel and Bucky was belting out Playing With The Boys by Kenny Loggins as loudly as he could, making Steve laugh again with his exaggerated facial expressions and hitting notes far too high that Steve thought, ah shit. I think I _really_ like this guy.

***

"Well, you seem to have perked up some," Peggy said when she came to visit the next morning, noticing the change in his demeanour. Steve did feel a little better; Phil had come to visit him earlier and so had Sam, both of them bringing him bags of grapes.

"Is this _actually_ a thing that people do?" Steve had asked, looking incredulously at the fruit. Sam had shrugged and thrown a grape at Steve to catch in his mouth but he was too slow and it hit him in the eye instead.

Steve tried to sound nonchalant as he took a bite out of one of the persimmons Peggy had bought with her. "I made a new friend."

Peggy's smile was broad. "Oh? Come on then, tell me something."

"His name's Bucky and he's in the room across the hall. We've hung out a few times." Steve didn't tell her that the last two days had been the best he'd had in a long time, even before his whole shitty accident.

Peggy sat next to Steve's bed and raised an eyebrow, not fooled one bit by his brief summary. "Do I get to meet this new friend?"

"He's got an appointment. He won't be back until later." Steve didn't meet her eyes, focusing hard on the new designs she had drawn up - ideas for pieces for when he was able to work again - but he knew she wasn't convinced by his casualness. She knew him too well and picked up on all of his subtleties, especially when he was interested in someone. He _was_ interested in Bucky but tried hard not to think about it too much; he wasn't in the most ideal situation to be falling for anyone.

Peggy didn't push him on the subject though, sensing that there was more to it but that he wasn't quite ready to tell her anything further, cutting him a break and not hounding him for more information like she usually would. She changed the subject.

"So I take it you're keeping the beard?" She sounded amused.

Steve rubbed it self-consciously with his good hand. "I was thinking I might. Just for a change." He didn't tell her that Bucky had told him he thought beards were badass when Steve had mentioned how much he needed a shave earlier. "Why, does it look dumb?"

"Not at all; I think it rather suits you actually." She started to talk about some new clients that had come in and how Howard had started to obsessively work on his new project until 3am every night and Steve kind of zoned out, thinking about brown hair, gray-blue eyes and a smile that made him feel like he could melt into the floor.

***

Steve's doctor had just left his room after a long consultation; Peggy excused herself when he came in to review Steve's chart and promised to come by and see Steve again in the next couple of days. The doctor was pleased - his leg was setting well, they could take the pins out of his ankle soon; he might even be able to go home next week. He'd be laid up for another three months _at least_ and he'd be on crutches for a while when he absolutely had to move around. They spoke briefly about physical therapy and Steve's mood started to slip again. No work for a while, he thought grimly, the worry starting to set in once more even though Peggy had assured him that everything was fine; his health was more important than a few side tables and bookcases. He was about to start on one of the books that Phil had bought him to take his mind off of the gnawing anxiety in his chest when Bucky appeared at his door. Steve brightened when he saw him.

"So, I'm being discharged tomorrow," Bucky said and Steve thought there was a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Hey, that's great," Steve replied, trying to keep his own voice light but his heart sank, even though he knew this had been coming.

"Yeah, I guess. I kind of liked the weird limbo I was in though, being here. Didn't have to worry about real-life stuff for a few days." Bucky grabbed the chair (Steve thought of it as Bucky's chair now) and sat in his usual spot by Steve's bed. Steve nodded, not wanting to admit how much spending time with Bucky had helped him to ignore his own messy reality, even for a little while. But it wasn't just that Bucky was a distraction from his broken bones; he made Steve feel good about himself as a person. And now he was leaving.

They were silent for a few moments and then Bucky turned to Steve with a little smile. He could see some trepidation in it though. "I was thinking I could come by and see you... hang out during visiting hours maybe? If you wanted."

"I'd like that," Steve said, almost immediately and Bucky smiled, wide and happy this time.

***

Steve woke up with a start later that night, shaking and covered in sweat; he had dreamt about the crash again and coupled with the growing panic about how he would manage when he was out of here, of Peggy and Howard paying all of his medical bills and just generally feeling down and shitty, couldn't help but start to cry. He hardly ever cried, not full-on, red-in-the-face blubbering. He let the tears come though and tried to get it out of his system. The last thing he'd want to do was start in front of Peggy when she came to visit again - he'd already upset her enough. He tried his best to keep quiet, his breaths hitching and shuddery.

"Steve? You okay?" Bucky's voice was soft from his doorway. He must have heard Steve dreaming again.

Steve looked up and didn't even bother to try and hide the fact that he was crying. It was too late anyway. "Hey Bucky. Yeah, I'm fine. Just feeling sorry for myself." He laughed, bitter and humourless.

"I can feel sorry for you with you if you like?"

Any other time, Steve would have said he was okay but Bucky was leaving tomorrow and he didn't want to think about how sad that made him. "That would be nice."

He was surprised when, instead of getting the chair from the corner like he usually did, Bucky climbed up onto Steve's bed, mindful of his ankle and sat next to him. His arm was warm against Steve's. They sat silently together and Steve wiped his eyes. Bucky gently put an arm across Steve's shoulder.

"You'll be alright," Bucky said quietly.

Steve just nodded and rested his head against Bucky's.

***

Bucky came to Steve's room in the morning before he left to say good-bye. He was dressed in a shirt and jeans and Steve's breath caught in his throat and he realised just how much he was attracted to this guy. It had been an intense couple of weeks for him and he wondered if he was just feeling particularly vulnerable and latching onto Bucky's kindness but...he didn't think so. He wanted to say something but it didn't feel right, him still all battered and red-eyed and thinking, selfishly, that he wished Bucky had broken something too because then maybe he'd be staying.

"So," Bucky said and stood by Steve's bed.

"How's it feel to be out of the hospital garb?" Steve said, forcing himself to smile.

Bucky smirked. "Pretty good. Less of a breeze down below."

Steve laughed softly and held his right hand out. "Thanks. For everything."

Bucky gave Steve a searching look and shook his hand gently. "It was fun. I...uh..." He seemed to be chewing over what he wanted to say but decided against whatever it was and then just reached into his bag and pulled out one of the cheesy romance novels he'd been reading from the other day and handed it to Steve. "I started to highlight all the sexy parts in this but then got carried away tallying up all of the euphemisms for dick. "Throbbing Member" made the most appearances. But there's some really good ones in there; I marked them all down for you."

Steve flipped through the book and laughed again. "Wow, thanks. This is the single weirdest gift anyone's ever given me."

"I'm nothing if not original," Bucky said and chewed his bottom lip. "I thought I could stop by tomorrow afternoon. Just to say hi."

Anticipation roiled in Steve's chest and he wondered if something was happening between them. He _wanted_ something to be happening between them but he was suddenly afraid to burst whatever this strange little bubble was that they'd somehow found themselves in. Maybe he could settle for having Bucky as a friend.

"That would be great. We can play poker and you can insult my career again."

Bucky rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, bring that up. I've got Cards Against Humanity. You don't need to bluff for that one. I wouldn't want to make you feel like _too_ much of a loser."

They squabbled playfully for a few more minutes and then one of the nurses came in to tell Bucky that his cab was here. He gave Steve a last little wave before he walked out into the corridor and Steve tried not to think about how he would fill each hour on his own again.

***

Bucky ended up coming to visit him every day and Steve tried not to get his hopes up but it was hard not to. It was inevitable that Peggy would show up to see him while Bucky was there too (the nurses joked that he hadn't really left) and Steve knew she would see his infatuation in a second.

"Hello there," she said with a sly little smile. "I'm going to guess that you're Bucky."

Bucky shook her hand and gave her a charming grin. "I am. You're Peggy, right? I like your accent."

"Thank you. It took years of practice to get it sounding just right but I think I've nailed it."

Bucky laughed and Steve tried his best to throw a _don't do that thing where you give me away to the guy I like before he knows that I like him_ look to Peggy and it must have worked because Peggy straightened her jacket and said briskly, "Well, I'm sorry I can't stay but I left Howard minding the office and I don't trust him not to set anything on fire." She set down the magazines she had bought for Steve and gave him a beaming smile.

"Thanks Peggy," Steve said and he didn't mean for the magazines.

She said good-bye to Bucky and held up her crossed fingers for Steve just before she was out of sight.

***

Steve was _finally_ told he could be discharged, a week after Bucky had left the hospital, and he couldn't wait. He wouldn't miss this place. He certainly wouldn't miss the smell. He wanted his own bed and his own space; he was desperate to see Crossbones even though Sam had warned him that he'd actually grown quite attached to the mutt and he might have to fight to get him back. Clint offered to do a big grocery shop for Steve so he had food when he got back and Phil even got the super of his building to finally fix the elevator which had been broken for months so Steve wouldn't have to try and hobble up four flights of stairs on his crutches. Peggy and Howard would pick him up from the hospital the day he got out, refusing to let him take a cab. Steve promised himself that he'd take them all out for a very expensive dinner when he was able. His friends were the best.

He had been steadily working himself up to ask Bucky for his number and wondered if he should just go for it and ask him out. But then he thought where the hell would they go because Steve wouldn't be good for much for a long while, even though he'd be out of this place. He knew he was making this into a much bigger thing than it really was but he was nervous; he liked Bucky a lot and didn't want their friendship to be tethered to Steve's accident and the hospital.

The day before he was being discharged, he went for an appointment with Natasha, the physical therapist he'd be seeing and got used to his crutches. He could put a very small amount of pressure down on his right leg but he couldn't do it for long. He looked worriedly at the wheelchair that he'd need to use.

"For your own good," Natasha said. "You'll only screw yourself up if you try and use the crutches while both legs are still healing."

He caved and tried to get used to steering. It was hard and Natasha insisted he go back to his room with it. She offered to carry his crutches but he waved her off saying that when he was home things would be problematic enough so he may as well start as he meant to go on, laying them across his lap and manoeuvring awkwardly through every door.

Bucky was in his room when Steve got back, standing up from the chair in the corner as Steve came crashing into the door frame, cursing loudly.

"Hey, look at you. All dressed in civvies and out of bed."

Steve smiled, more self-conscious by the ratty hoodie and sweatpants he was wearing than he had been by the hospital gowns he'd been living in. "I didn't think you were coming here until later. I was meeting with my physical therapist."

Bucky seemed slightly antsy, although he was doing his best to try and hide it. "I was kind of in the neighborhood so I thought I'd drop by." Steve knew for a fact that this was totally out of the way for Bucky but didn't say anything.

Steve steered the wheelchair up to the bed and tried to use the crutches to lever himself up. Bucky stepped close and hooked his arm around Steve's back. "Here, let me help."

Steve rested his weight on Bucky as he stood, his stomach fluttering at the contact and he hopped the few inches to the bed, sitting and swinging his legs up carefully.

"Wow, I didn't realise you were so tall," Bucky said when he let go and Steve was sitting. "I'm so used to seeing you from this height."

Steve chuckled. "Yeah, I actually got a head-rush when I stood up fully for the first time earlier. Felt weird."

Bucky laughed but it sounded too high-pitched. He tucked his hands under his armpits and shifted from foot to foot. "So...you get out tomorrow?"

Steve was slightly worried by how out of character Bucky seemed. Something was off; he always came across so confident and relaxed but now he looked fidgety and hesitant. "Yeah. I can't wait but I'm kind of nervous too. I never thought I'd be so worried about taking care of myself."

Bucky nodded and looked down, frowning.

"Bucky, is everything okay?" Steve finally asked.

"I have a problem," Bucky blurted out suddenly. He continued to look at the floor and rested his hands on his hips.

Steve waited for him to continue, swallowing nervously and not quite knowing why.

"There's this guy I like and I've been wanting to tell him for a little while now but I keep putting it off," Bucky was talking fast and kept his eyes fixed on the side of Steve's bed. "We met under kinda weird circumstances but I've been attracted to him from the get-go and I'm not entirely sure if he likes me back in the same way. There's a chance that I may never see him again after tomorrow and I don't know what to do." He stopped then and chewed his bottom lip, eyes still on the floor, standing in the middle of the room and looking like he was waiting for the axe to fall.

Steve felt that strange bubbling anticipation in him fizz over. "Hmm. I can see how that would be a problem."

Bucky glanced up at him, his eyes full of worry. Steve finally found some courage and took a chance. "Can you come over here?"

Bucky shifted on his feet again, eyes fixed on Steve's. "Why?"

"Because I want to kiss you and I can't stand up," Steve said.

A slow smile broke out on Bucky's face. "Are you sure? Because I don't think I'll be able to let you go or leave if I get up on that bed with you."

Steve smiled back and shrugged. "I've got nowhere else to be."

Bucky climbed up on the bed and kissed Steve until the nurse told him that visiting hours were over and he absolutely had to leave.

***

Six weeks later and Steve could just about get around his apartment on his crutches. It hadn't been easy but he was getting there, between the physical therapy and his friends doing more for him than they ever really should have. He was happier than he had been for a long time though.

"So I was thinking that I could maybe come back for two days a week. I can work on small pieces at my bench without having to stand." Steve was trying his best to convince Peggy over the phone that he could come back to work. "I've got enough mobility back that I can not be a big blond burden anymore."

Peggy tutted. "You were never a big blond burden. You're a big blond _idiot_ but not a burden. At least that's what a certain dashing boyfriend of a certain blond idiot keeps telling me."

Steve smiled to himself and tried his best pleading voice on Peggy. "Can I _please_ come back to work?"

There was a short silence and then Peggy sighed. "Oh, go on then. But _only_ for two days a week and _only_ for four hours a day. To start with, at least."

"Thanks Peggy. I'll make you and Howard whatever you want for your anniversary."

"I'll hold you to that. I have to go but we'll see you tomorrow. Does Bucky like steak? Howard can get some good fillets and he wants to try out a new seasoning."

"Yeah, he loves steak. We'll get the wine."

Steve said good-bye and hung up just as the front door opened and Crossbones bounded in closely followed by Bucky. He closed the door and pulled off his sneakers.

"Hey boy, did you have a nice walk?" Steve rubbed the Sheepdog behind the ears. "Was he good?" he asked, as Bucky flopped down on the couch next to him and nudged Crossbones in the side with his foot.

"He ate a pine-cone. A _whole_ pine-cone. Little bastard chewed it up at lightening speed before I could get to him." He leaned across and ruffled the dog's head. "But we played some awesome frisbee, didn't we?"

Crossbones padded off to see if any treats had been left in his bowl and Steve turned to Bucky with a smile. "Thanks for walking him for me. I like that my two best guys get along so well." He leaned over and kissed Bucky softly on the lips.

"Be even better when you can come with us," Bucky said and nuzzled into Steve when he put an arm across his shoulder and pulled him close. "I desperately need to show my hot boyfriend off to everyone."

Steve stroked Bucky's arm and laughed. "Yeah, I can't wait to be properly up and about again. I had no idea how little I'd actually be able to do like this." He knocked on his cast.

Bucky grinned slyly and rubbed his face against Steve's, now beard-free since telling Bucky that he'd only grown it because he had mentioned once that he liked them. Bucky had been flattered but admitted that the beard burn was the one downside, no matter how hot Steve looked. "I can think of a few things you can do like this..."

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Do they involve me having to get up?"

Bucky stood up and took off his t-shirt, dropping it to the floor. "Only as far as the bedroom and I can guarantee that you won't be leaving it for a long while." He smirked.

Steve couldn't grab his crutches fast enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Another short fic while I try and get over some writer's block (again). Apologies for any medical inaccuracies! Years of watching ER has made me lazy... 
> 
> I'm currently also sitting on an almost finished 14k+ one-shot that I'm not sure if I like; it's got a much different tone to the other stuff I've posted here. Maybe I'll just finish it and let people make up their own minds!


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